


these little wonders

by spiritypowers



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, gets real heckin prosey for the fun of it, plotless drivel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritypowers/pseuds/spiritypowers
Summary: sometimes, the greatest magic is found in the quiet moments. a home for all my rayllum drabbles (originally published on thosefiveadoraburrs on tumblr)
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 189





	1. the sweetest sound

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by that "rayla was a lead in high school moonsical" joke bc i had to turn it into something soft.

He’s always liked the sound of her voice.

It’s not something he noticed at first, the melodic lilt of her teasing the first day they’d met not quite enough of a distraction from her swords (her ears hadn’t been, either; now he finds himself catching too many glances some days), and he’s not sure why it took him so long to sink into the warmth that envelops him when she speaks, especially when his ears had perked up so readily the very first morning she’d said his name. 

Maybe it’s part of why he’s always nudging her to talk, why her silence is so deafening some days. Why he works so hard to make her laugh, that low chortle sweeter than the tune of any melodaisy. Why all he wanted to do was talk after they’d kissed atop the ambler.

If he didn’t notice it before, he notices it now, clear as day, as she sings softly to Zym their first night in the Spire. It’s low and soft and breathy in a way that sends chills down his spine, and he wonders how he never knew that she could sing before. Then again, what can’t Rayla do? 

She strokes Zym’s snout as she sings her lullaby, the formerly nervous Dragonling beginning to relax, his eyelids slowly drooping. It’s a soft, gentle side she rarely shows, and for a moment he wonders how he ever got the privilege to see it.

She stops when Zym’s sound asleep, snoring quietly, for a moment able to forget about having to eventually meet his mother in the throne room just up ahead.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Callum whispers, and Rayla smiles, her cheeks tinged a soft pink.

“Haven’t done it in a while,” she admits quietly. “Just glad it calmed him down for the night.”

“It’s really nice.”

“Thanks.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We should probably get some rest, too. Big few days ahead of us.”

He follows her out of the main antechamber, suddenly not quite sure what to do with his hands as he asks, “Will I get to hear it again?”

She stops, then looks at him with a fond smile. “Probably.” 

He knows it’s basically a yes, and even if it wasn’t? He still can’t help but love the way she says it.


	2. running (home to you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Rayla was a little girl, she's always been running. An abstract drabble for fun.

She always runs.

Ever since she was a little girl, she always runs. Her earliest memory of doing so is back in school, when she was five, after punching out a little boy who had been teasing her. She’d escaped to the adoraburr meadow and hadn’t come out till Ethari had finally found her, long after nightfall. He and Runaan had been so worried sick that she hadn’t even gotten a proper scolding, though she had been forced to apologize to the boy later. (She didn’t mean it.)

It’s a part of her that scares her, most of all when she hears word of the Dragonguard deserting. Her _parents_. Running from her, running from a duty of such high honour… She stays and trains with Runaan longer, harder, working through exhaustion and injury to prove that she won’t run. That she’s ready to fulfill her duty. That she’s not like her parents.

She runs when Runaan tells her to stay put. It’s not the same; she’s running towards her destiny rather than away, until her destiny changes. She doesn’t know the extent to which it changes at the time; all she knows is, the Egg is alive and safe, and it has to be returned with these two human princes. They have to be present; that’s the gesture that will make things right.

She runs away from her troupe. She defies Runaan, her mentor, her _father_ by all accounts, and she doesn’t once wonder if it was the right thing to do. Even so, she knows she’s running again. But it’s okay, because she’s doing the right thing. She’s travelling with the right people.

But her people have no way of knowing that.

_But you didn’t run. They have it all wrong._

_Does it matter?_

She runs from Callum. When he wakes to the sound of her crying – really, why couldn’t she have been a little more quiet – she runs, shoves him away, even as he chases after her. It’s only when she has nowhere else to go, by some horrible little lake, that she can’t run.

She wonders later how she didn’t notice him constantly running after her.

She runs off the top of the Spire.

It’s not running away this time. It never was, she realizes. Her parents didn’t run. Her parents stayed and gave their lives to their cause. She’s always run towards the danger, towards her duty. Maybe she ran away from other things, smaller things that she never thought mattered to anyone before…

She turns back towards the Spire as she’s falling. She didn’t mean to run from him. Not this time. It’s the one thing she regrets, as the end comes nearer, and –

He’s falling, too.

He ran after her. He always does. Jumped off the edge like the dumb, brave boy he’s always been. When he catches her, she holds on tight, and neither let go when their feet finally touch the ground.

She always runs. She runs straight towards danger, right into the eye of the storm. She runs towards the solution, with the desperate hope that her little life is enough. But she never runs from him. Not ever again.

And this time, she doesn’t have to run alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: i used to be a theatre kid and this 100% reads the way i would dissect a new character i was playing in my head and i have no idea if it worked on paper, whoops!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla notices something different about Callum. A little look into their first year together, and some of the changes that come with it.

It’s only a couple months after her sixteenth birthday when she realizes that she has to look just a little higher to look him in the eye. It’s barely noticeable, and it only strikes her when she has her forehead pressed to his, and she no longer has to tilt her chin down. 

“Rayla?” he asks softly, when she’s stared at him for a little too long. (Then again, since they became A Thing, what is even the metric for that?) She tugs him in for a quick kiss before reaching up and ruffling his hair, and when he laughs and tugs her back to him, she doesn’t think about it again for a while. 

She notices it again about three months later when they’re visiting Katolis. She still has to pull him up the parapets and towers as they make their way to the roof, and they’re both breathing hard and fighting the urge to burst into fits of laughter once they’re up. 

“You know we could just take the stairs?” he asks.

“Yeah, but this way’s faster. And more fun,” she grins, straightening. He straightens too, and her smile falters. She has to look up a little, now, for her eyes to meet his. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Um…” She smiles faintly. “You’re taller.”

“I am?” A shift of his eyes tips her off, and she punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“You don’t have to act like you didn’t notice,” she smiles, and he lets out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean, it’s not that much. My mom and aunt both had two big growth spurts later in life, so everyone figured I would too.”

“So you’re not  _ done _ ?”

“I mean, I hope not,” he says, and his grin turns cheeky. “Why?”

“Nothing,” she says, flushing. 

“Okay,” he shrugs lightly, still grinning. 

“Ugh, clearly the air is too thin up there,” she says, but she’s smiling. If she has to get used to this, she doesn’t think she minds so much. “Come on, the food they brought up is going to get cold.”

Besides, any height difference they may have doesn’t seem like much when they’re sitting down together, curled up in one another’s arms.

***

It’s his sixteenth birthday and she has to look up when she looks into his face as she helps him with his dress shirt. She’s never liked parties much, and they’re both a little lost as they try to help each other adjust the trappings of formal wear, but it’s her boyfriend’s big day, and going into another year with him makes her heart too full to mind poofy skirts and corsets.

For now, his height has settled fairly consistently at just an inch above hers, the top of his head level with the tips of her horns. Even with her own little growth spurt, it seems that she’s on the other side of their slight height difference this time.

It’s different, something she’s had to get used to. She has to raise her head now, to rest her forehead against his, to kiss him. She has to reach higher to weave tiny braids into his hair, must reach up when she wants to feel his cheek under her palm. His skin is still smooth, and she wonders how long till she’ll feel rough stubble instead. Another change to get used to. Another change to look forward to.

They get to change together. She gets to watch him stand tall at any and every height, while he helps her create solid ground. Maybe this is what the poets and storytellers mean when they talk about a happily ever after. Maybe it means the beginning of growing together, so closely that your roots begin to intertwine. She doesn’t mind one bit. 

Rayla lifts onto her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Callum’s forehead. Because no matter how much taller he gets, some things never change. “Happy birthday, love.”

He holds onto her forearms as she lowers back down onto her feet, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles back at her. “Thanks for making it one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ppl tried to say that tall callum wasn't valid and i, a short and spiteful asian, said, "we're not doing this today helen"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla have trouble sleeping while watching over Ezran. Takes place sometime near the beginning of 1x07. For wordswithdragons' "Book One: Moon" event.

It’s hard to sleep that night, even with most of the immediate danger already passed. Ezran is asleep, finally, dry and warm under the thick cloak they brought along, bogeyberries still sticking out of his nose a little. He snores loudly that night, but it makes little difference; Callum can’t get to sleep anyway.

The fire’s still going, a precaution to make extra sure that Ezran’s cold doesn’t get any worse, even if there’s very little risk of frostbite now. Callum’s eyes water a little bit as he stares at it, before finally giving up on any chance of sleep, getting up to sit next to the egg.

It barely glows now, and it does nothing to ease the pit in his stomach. He knows that right now it’s better to stay and make sure Ezran at least gets well enough before they begin travelling again to find help. Anyway, it’s unwise to attempt travelling in this weather, and at this time of night.

Callum hears a sigh somewhere in the break between Ezran’s snores, and glances over to see Rayla sitting up, looking at her hand. Even in the dim light, it’s easy to see the blotchy purpling along her skin, only ending a little past her binding. 

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers, and Rayla looks up. 

“No. Too awake.” She gets up and lightly steps around the fire to the egg, sitting on the opposite side of it. The slope of her frown is subtle in this light, but he can still see it as she looks at the egg. “Just thinking too loud, I suppose.”

“So it’s not Ezran’s snoring keeping you awake?” He counts it a victory when the corner of her mouth lifts.

“No, and I wouldn’t blame him even if it was.” Her faint smile vanishes like a mirage. “He’s been through a lot today.”

Callum nods, his throat tightening, just a little. He’s not sure he’s ever been so scared before, or felt so helpless. “At least he gets time to rest now.” He smiles a little. “I’m glad you found him so quickly.”

“It shouldn’t have been an issue. I dropped it, and—”

“Rayla, don’t.” She looks up at him in surprise, and he lets out a quiet sigh. “We both… got a lot of things wrong today. I’m as much to blame as you. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Ez is okay, and…” He looks back at the egg. Its light flickers. “And we’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Then, Rayla says, “That was the one time I didn’t want my binding to come off.” He looks at her intently, and she continues. “I’ve been trying to get this stupid thing off ever since we started this mission. And the further we went, the more it hurt, and nothing I could do would cut it off or loosen it. But then Ezran was under the ice, and… I kept thinking, maybe I should go in after him myself. And my hand hurt so much, and then knowing what it meant…” She lets out a breath that sounds like something short of a laugh. “I was so relieved.”

Something in Callum’s chest warms as he looks at her. “I’m still sorry about your hand,” he says, but Rayla shakes her head.

“If I have to lose it—if there’s no other way to get it off, without him staying safe—I’m okay.” She looks at him, smiling faintly. “Some people are worth losing a hand for.”

He doesn’t know why the warmth in his chest spreads through the rest of him, in spite of his sleeplessness and the quiet panic in the back of all of their minds regarding the egg. Of course his brother is worth that sacrifice, and of course he’s glad that Rayla cares so much about him, but… Maybe a part of him wonders if he’s included in her statement, too. He wonders if he already knows the answer, just by looking at her face.

He wonders if she knows that she’s already on that list for him, too.

“They are,” he agrees, and it’s enough for now, her smile content as she looks back at the fire. There’s something peaceful about the moment, in spite of everything waiting for them in the morning. The warm light of the fire dances along her cheeks and reflects in her eyes.

Maybe someday he’ll tell her, for real. Maybe not exactly the hand thing, but… something close enough. Hopefully, someday soon.


End file.
